


Demon's Blood

by Neo (luxnoctre)



Category: EXO
Genre: Angst, BAP deserves better thanks, BaekXing, Dark Humor, Death, Drama, Gore, Humor, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M, Mild Language, Mystery, Thriller, and exo deserves the universe, but love shot has excellent choreo, crack humor, don't read these tags thanks, ex-chanbaek, exo being badass, exo mafia, exo needs more promotion, how many tags can i actually put here, i need to give an exposition or somethin, i need to sleep more but its ok, im eating bread while doing this, jk they both deserve the universe because they're that amazing, jongbros, jongin and jongdae being bros, lets get this bread, love shot exo, mafia, me not knowing what im doing, my first work wow, other groups as other mafia, shinee deserves the world, single chanyeol, sm what the hell are you doing, smut MAYBE, suchen - Freeform, tempo is better than love shot, the bad guy is based off TS entertainment, xiuhun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxnoctre/pseuds/Neo
Summary: Amongst the contrast of darkness and neon lights that is Seoul's Underworld, the name EXO is synonymous to a lot of things : Power, fear, wealth, but also hope.





	Demon's Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmicmilktea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicmilktea/gifts).



> For my wonderful cosmicmilktea, an AU based off her thread of EXO as Mafia  
> Also inspired by EXO's Love Shot and Tempo Comeback (bout time SM, we were starving)  
> I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes and I swear, it gets better (hopefully) This is my first work in Ao3 so let's see how this turns out ig. Slowish updates because I have writer's block soo often
> 
> Thank you for reading and please enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS: Explicit language, gore, smut (maybe), dark humor  
> Any similarities to real life characters/events/places is merely coincidental  
> This work is mine

The man’s eyes were like pinpoints of white light in the hazy dark night. They were wide open with fear, and from them, dripped salty tears onto the ground. The man was running from an unseen foe, his breath coming in shaky gasps as he sprinted down a partly concealed alleyway.

He turned a corner and fished a black phone out of his pocket, anxiously dialing a number as he glanced down the alleyway. “I must tell them, they have to know.” he muttered as he crouched down behind a dumpster, the phone pressed against his ear.

It only took a couple rings for someone to pick up the phone. “Hello?” a calm voice answered. The man sighed with relief before speaking urgently.

“Junmyeon, listen to me. It’s them, the RF, they’re-” the man stopped speaking when he heard the sound of running footsteps. “No, no, no!” the man cried out, as a group of black clad men quickly surrounded him, silver knives and gun barrels glittering in the yellowish streetlights.

A gunshot rang out in the night.

\----

Junmyeon stared suspiciously at his phone, a dead line ringing from his call. He wasn’t able to hear anything else through the call, only a loud noise and a dead phone. Junmyeon sighed and pushed his hair from his face. He got up from his chair, a handsome leather thing, and texted a couple words. A minute later, a loud series of knocks rang through Junmyeon’s office. Two exceptionally tall and rather handsome men entered. One, the tallest, was wearing a navy blue shirt, with black slacks and a black tie. The other was dressed in dashing hues of blood red. Both had a silver pin on their lapel. Both had black masks, concealing part of their faces. Both had weapons strapped to their sides, but Junmyeon didn’t seem bothered.“Do you remember Lee Jungsoo?” inquired Junmyeon the moment his office door was closed and locked.

 The tallest shook his head but his companion nodded and answered quietly, “Wasn’t he the man who did us a favor back in Busan? The runaway cargo train?”

Junmyeon nodded, his hand absentmindingly tracing patterns on his mahogany wood desk. “Exactly Sehun, I need you two to find him.”

“Is there trouble?” The tallest asked, his eyes suddenly having a slightly maniac glint in them.

“Hopefully not, Chanyeol, but go down to Elyxion and find Jungsoo regardless.” Junmyeon answered, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the two. They exited as quickly as they came.

Junmyeon sat heavily down in his chair, his phone dangling from the tips of his fingers. Being a leader was tiring at times, especially when one was the leader of an infamous mafia organization such as EXO. Junmyeon's name was known all throughout Seoul's hidden underworld. Renowned not only for his fighting skills, but also as the head of a group that could only be described as mysterious. Not much was known about EXO's individual members, except once there was twelve, but now there were nine. Junmyeon was the only member whose real name was exposed (except perhaps Jongdae, whose profession required a name), and he didn't mind, better him to take the brute of rumors than his other members. Junmyeon actually didn't think himself as much of a leader, he thought himself more as a protector, a guardian against the tragedies of the world. Running drug wars, weapon dealings, and money schemes were a side job that just happened to take him to the top of the Underworld. 

But if Junmyeon was indeed the leader, at least he was a bloody good one.

—-

Jongdae just about had enough with a rowdy drinker who seemed to have no understanding of the term, “personal space”. The customer was practically climbing over the bar to get closer to Jongdae, and he certainly was not in the mood to fend off some horny customer. 

Jongdae was seriously contemplating if he should just shoot the man when his bar door opened with a loud bang. The bartender tensed, his hands fingering the long M4 rifle hidden beneath his counter. But he relaxed when he recognized the familiar faces of his fellow mafia members.

“Hey Chen, hit me with one,” his friend Chanyeol said, swinging his legs over a stool and settling down comfortably. His companion, Sehun, accidentally brushed shoulders with the drunk patreon as he sat down, setting off the drunkard on angry rant. Sehun looked unamused, but simply kicked the man roughly in the side and sat down. Jongdae looked on with amusement as the drunk man attempted to punch Sehun back, but was shoved once more till the man started cursing profusely, and stormed out.

“It would be nice, if you didn’t scare away my customers once in a while, 94.” Jongdae casually said, using code names in order to conceal the man’s identity. 94, who in reality was Sehun, shrugged his shoulders and sat down next to Chanyeol. Jongdae was right, ever since the men entered the bar, customers around them have slowly been scooting to the far ends of the counter. All the patrons at the bar were aware of Jongdae's ties to the infamous mafia, and all of them were able to recognize the silver symbol pinned on the fronts of the two men. Causing a ruckus around them would be like signing a death warrant. 

“Let him off, Chen,” Chanyeol said, pulling down his mask and taking a sip of a glass that Jongdae had passed to him, “He’s just venting out his daily stress.”

“Venting out stress huh? That must be what you do everyday, right 61?” Jongdae responded, wiping up traces of alcohol and blood.

“You’d be surprised how stressful life is when you aren’t hidden in a bar all day,” Sehun remarked sarcastically. “But anyways, we’re here because 01 sent us out.” That got Jongdae’s interest, and it showed when he immediately stopped what he was doing and having Sehun a curious look.

“You remember Lee Jungsoo?” Chanyeol asked quietly, his voice muffled by his mask. At Jongdae’s small nod, Chanyeol pressed on. “01 wants us to find him, we think something is wrong. Have you heard anything yet?”

Jongdae thought for a moment about all the gossip he heard, drifting in and out of the busy bar. “Nothing, but I’ll let you know if I do.” The two nodded gratefully and swiftly excited the bar, leaving nothing but a half empty shot glass in their wake.

\---

Sehun and Chanyeol hurried down the small alleyway at the side of the bar. Sehun pulled his mask up to cover more of his face and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Cold?” Chanyeol asked sympathetically. Unlike the other, Chanyeol was relatively unaffected by the freezing temperatures. At Sehun’s stoic face and quick shake, Chanyeol pulled out a small white packet from his pocket. “Here, a hot pack.”

Sehun took it slowly, trying not to show his gratefulness too much. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, clenching the pack tightly in his hands.

“It’s ok to show weakness sometimes,” Chanyeol advised, watching the younger bundle himself up in his coat.

Sehun gave Chanyeol a skeptical look. “I think 99 would punch you if he heard you say that to me,” Sehun responded. Chanyeol gave a small smile in return.

“You’re right, it’s ok to show weakness in front of us,” Chanyeol corrected. The two kept on walking towards an unknown destination, their eyes open and scanning the environment around them.

It wasn’t till they were deep into Seoul’s maze of alleyways that Sehun spotted stains of blood littered around the base of a dumpster. Chanyeol spotted bullet marks on a nearby wall, a sure sign that a fight had broken out in the area. There was a trail of smeared blood, leading towards an isolated corner of the alleyway.

The scene that the two found normally would be enough to make any person gag out of disgust. But luckily, Sehun and Chanyeol were not just “any person”. Albeit, Sehun did grimace when he saw the bloody massacre in front of him. Chanyeol didn’t say anything, but the gruesome scene was one of the more gory ones he has seen as a mafia.

A badly burnt body laid at the base of a brick wall in a pool of partially dried blood. The corpse's eyes were black sockets, the eyes seemingly torn out. The mouth was open as if it was forever locked into a scream of pain. A leg was missing (that Sehun later found being clawed over by stray dogs) and there were deep gashes in the shoulders. Behind the body, was a message written in blood. **OVERDOSE**.

Sehun prodded Chanyeol and asked, “Overdose? Any idea what that means?” Chanyeol shook his head and dutifully took photos of the scene to show to Junmyeon.

“We better taking this to 10, maybe that will give us some clues,” Chanyeol advised, dialing a number and waiting for someone to pick up.

“99? We need you here.”

\------

Jongdae suppressed a sigh as he continued to clean his bar counter and rid it of whatever mysterious stains or drops of liquid there were. It seemed as if no matter how many times Jongdae wiped down his bar, some idiotic drunkard would end up making another mess.

He paused in his germ purging to make a cocktail for a woman with too much makeup on and pour shots for a group of rowdy old men who kept leering at anyone who came their way. As disgusting as these people were, Jongdae felt right at home. A bar filled with some of the nastiest and darkest people to roam Seoul, and among them, was a man filled with so much darkness that he could practically drown out any unsuspecting ray of light. Like Junmyeon, Jongdae's face was known as the man who one had to talk to in order to contact any other EXO member. But Jongdae used a nickname to conceal his identity, Chen, since he was in no mood to be harassed by some desperate people. In truth, his job was rather simple; work at a bar, clean tables, and serve drinks. And in between those monotonous actions, Jongdae did information trading. A rumor for a rumor, a name in exchange for a favor. All the deeds necessary to keep EXO's name circulating through the veins of the Underground. He was well trained in the art of concealment and psychology, a skill useful when talking to some of the most dangerous groups in Korea. Jongdae knew exactly when someone was angry and about to pull a gun, or when someone was desperate and needed a touch to send them over the edge. He knew exactly how to set someone's emotional bomb off and Jongdae loved it. 

Jongdae surveyed the bustling bar with his calm, calculating eyes when a swift flash of white caught his attention. He saw a familiar face approaching him, dressed in a white hoodie. The man sat directly in front of Jongdae, and said with a casual voice, “I’ll take a glass of vodka.”

Jongdae reached under the counter, once again feeling his trusty firearm. “Do you want Smirnoff or Krupnik?” Jongdae responded. This was a secret signal between the two. Depending on the man’s choice, Jongdae would know whether they were in danger or if everything was ok.

“Do you have any Starka?” The man asked, pulling a couple bills out of his pocket. Another code, this time communicating that something in the underworld was amiss and a message had to be sent. Jongdae reached for a bottle of orange colored liquid and poured a small glass.

“That’ll be 20,000 won,” Jongdae said, passing the glass over to the man in exchange for a tightly wrapped bundle of notes. The man downed the glass and retreated away from the counter, his white sweatshirt disappearing in the crowd as quickly as he came.

Jongdae turned away from the bar and unrolled the bundle, finding a neatly concealed piece of paper between the bills. He unfolded it to find a short message written in jet black ink.  **It’s the RF, they’re hunting us**

Jongdae quickly put down the paper with alarm and looked around the bar. No one seemed to be staring at him suspiciously or reaching into their clothes to pull out a weapon. He was safe, for now. He checked the note one more time, just to make sure that he read everything correctly, and crumbled the note up into a tight ball. Jongdae dosed the ball with water, making it disintegrate into wet strands and obscurity. He retreated to a secluded corner and pulled out his phone, dialing a number.

He didn’t have to wait long for a response. “88?” Jongdae whispered into the microphone. “Position update.”

There was a mild crackle of static before a man started talking. “I’m in quadrant three, building eight. Is something wrong?” Jongdae breathed a small sigh of relief at hearing the voice and headed to one of the back rooms where he wouldn’t be overheard.

“Hopefully nothing, but Taemin was just here and I figured you should know, 88.”

“Taemin? Why? His territory is far from Elyxion.”

“He delivered a message, I’m not entirely sure what it means. But keep your eyes open for anything,” Jongdae warned. With that, Jongdae hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. He patted down his suit jacket, checking that all his weapons were neatly secured. A knife hidden in his sleeve, a gun in his belt, and long daggers strapped to his legs. One could never be too prepared. That was the mantra that Jongdae lived by, and a mantra that saved his life more than once.

He took a deep breath and put on his sly, bartender smile and walked out with the grace of a black swan, ready to face whatever dangers lied ahead.

 

A couple of miles away, on top of a rather high roof. sat a man dressed in black. There was the grey handle of a Glock 17 peeking out of a holster strapped to his leg. The man was nonchalantly swinging his legs off the roof ledge, while he fiddled with his phone. He seemed to have no fear of falling several stories to his death, but rather, enjoyed the cold air rushing around him and the occasional bird (or was it a bat?) speeding past him.

The man was lost in thought as he twirled his phone through his fingers and dangled his legs off the roof. Once or twice, a car zoomed down below him, not noticing a shadowy figure up above. The man’s piercing eyes followed the cars long till they were past his hiding point. All was peaceful, with no ear splitting gunshots or screams ringing throughout the city.

The man thought it was rather boring, but he supposed that the quiet was welcomed once in a while.

That was, until Jongdae called him. It was a shame that the man wasn’t at the bar; he so would have enjoyed seeing Taemin again and having a drink with the other. But duty calls, and if Taemin’s message was true, then it seemed that the man’s night would become a lot more interesting.

The man stood up, the tips of his shoes leaning over the ledge, before he swiftly jumped down, leaving no trace of anything behind.

\-------

Baekhyun was in his element, to say the least. Entering the building was the easiest part. All it took was a blonde wig draped over his black hair and a flirtatious smile to cause the sleepy guards to let him in. A compliment here, a wink there and Baekhyun was through without being checked for any weapons. He didn't mind if his face was caught on any cameras; all would be erased from the nets by his fellow members. 

The building was relatively empty, save for the occasional security or some sleepy-eyed worker. Baekhyun almost felt bad for robbing them when they were at their weakest.

Almost.

But a job was a job and Baekhyun lived for the thrill of danger. He walked down a carpeted hallway, with no one else but a guard around him. As Baekhyun passed the man, he deftly jabbed a syringe into the man’s arm, rendering him unconscious. Baekhyun looked around before kicking open a closet door and dragging the man inside. Above the scene, perching in the corner was a camera, but its usual beeping lights were dull. After tying up the guard, Baekhyun did a quick clothing change and walked out the closet, looking like he completely belonged.

Baekhyun entered a waiting elevator and pressed the button for the highest floor. While waiting, he changed his blond hair for a rusty brown shade and pulled on a black mask. He looked up and smiled at a camera, pointed menacingly down at him.

“All cameras off, 12?” Baekhyun said, pulling a gun out of the back of his jacket and loading it. There was a small crackle in his ear before a slightly impatient voice responded to him.

“Of course they’re all off, I’m not an amateur.” Baekhyun smiled at the man’s curtness and stepped away from the opening elevator doors. He fired several shots in quick success before any guards could react. A couple of minutes later, several men laid bleed on the tile floor as Baekhyun walked daintily among them, careful not to step in any blood pools.

At last he arrived at his destination, a towering black steel door with seemingly no way of entering. But Baekhyun knew better, he pulled a silver card and waved it in front of the door. All of a sudden, the door split like an opening gate. Baekhyun didn’t waste any time walking in as the steel doors closed around him.

Inside, there was nothing but a desk with a large computer on it. Baekhyun checked his surroundings before taking out a USB drive and sticking it into the computer. After a couple of minutes of furious typing, Baekhyun cursed quietly and hit the desk in frustration. “Goddamnit,” Baekhyun said, staring at the computer.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s encrypted, I can’t get in. It looks like some failsafe trigger that-”

“Done.”

Baekhyun paused in his explanation when he saw the red virus code on the computer suddenly disappear and was replaced with a cheerful green message. “I didn’t even tell you what type of encryption it was,” Baekhyun stammered.

“I know, I’m just that good. Now hurry up and get your ass to the car, 04.”

Baekhyun packed up the USB man’s stern words and exited the building (this time in a hazelnut brown wig) as quickly as he entered. As he was walking down the hazy street towards his vehicle, a man emerged from the opposite direction. He roughly bumped in Baekhyun and seemed to shove something into Baekhyun’s hands. “Everything ok?” a voice in Baekhyun’s ear asked.

Baekhyun stood in the street, slightly dazed as he grasped a crumpled piece of paper shoved at him. He unfolded it to find only a cryptic message: **They’re coming. Watch your back**. Baekhyun stared at it curiously before ripping it into shreds and depositing them into the nearest trash can.

“Yeah, I’m fine.

\-----

Yixing’s night was going quite swell. The last body he was inspecting seemed to die from a blunt force hitting their skull, which for some reason, managed to expose parts of the brain. And of course, Yixing being the true doctor he was, just had to dissect the corpse to retrieve bits of the brain for further research. Yixing was hoping to examine the effects of different chemicals on the brain matter. Maybe he could use that information to develop a new biochemical weapon to use on some poor unsuspecting enemy.

That was how Yixing imagined his night to go; peaceful with him doing what he wanted to do. He certainly wasn’t expecting a call from Minseok about a new body found in an alley.

“You can just set it on the table over there.” Yixing commanded Chanyeol as the other hoisted a large body bag on top of a steel surgery table. Chanyeol had banged open the door to Yixing's lab unceremoniously ("You dent my door, asshole) a mere minute after Minseok's call. Yixing pulled out a tray stacked with various tools and eagerly unzipped the bag. Chanyeol grimaced at the doctor’s apparent enthusiasm at seeing the badly burnt corpse. Yixing noticed the other’s expression and frowned.

“You know, for someone who sees a dead body almost every day, you’re awfully squeamish,” Yixing commented, selecting a particularly sharp knife and jabbing the corpse’ chest, sending out a small spray of blood.

Chanyeol shook his head at Yixing, “There’s a difference between just looking at it and cutting one open.” He looked down distastefully at the body's gaping black hole eyes.

Yixing merely shrugged and started to tug the knife downwards, opening the body up. He reached in (with a gloved hand of course) and felt around the organs. “Dead is dead, it’s not like they can do anything about it.” He extracted his hand and peered at the blood stains. “Nice color. Doesn't seem like any chemicals were injected in.” Yixing mumbled (to Chanyeol’s mild bewilderment) before walking around to the corpse's side. He felt the man’s arms and noticed that the hands were clenched.

“You sent photos of the crime scene to me, right?” Yixing asked. At Chanyeol’s nod, Yixing touched the corpse’s clenched fists and saw a paper covered in ash. He carefully pried it from the cold hands and saw a drawing of something awfully familiar on it.

Chanyeol peered curiously over Yixing’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is that what I think it is?” Yixing slowly turned to Chanyeol with a tight mouth and the paper wrinkling in his gloved hands.

“Call Junmyeon. We need to have a meeting.”


End file.
